


Haircut

by bluespiritx



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Haircuts, M/M, and so is Jesus with a bun, childish Daryl is my fave, this is domestic as fuck and my heart almost exploded while i wrote it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6226147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluespiritx/pseuds/bluespiritx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesus convinces Daryl to let him cut his hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is so short because i originally wrote it as a response to a prompt that i was sent, and so i wrote it to post on tumblr. but now its here. so enjoy. xo

Daryl sat in the kitchen chair, arms folded, pouting like a five year old. He had a towel around his shoulders to catch the droplets of water from his just washed hair. Jesus walked up behind him, setting the scissors on the table in front of him and leaning around his boyfriend’s shoulder to look at his face. Daryl glanced back at him and Jesus just laughed at him, pecking him on the lips.  
“Don’t be such a baby,” Jesus said. “It's just a haircut.”  
“Fine, but you’re next.” Daryl huffed and turned back around, continuing his sulking. Sure, he agreed to let Jesus give him a trim so his hair would be easier to manage, and so he would stop asking Daryl to let him braid it, but that sure as hell didn’t mean he had to like it. He knew that this was for the best, seeing as on their last run they had encountered a few walkers and Daryl could barely see through his bangs, causing him to get tackled and nearly bitten. Since then, Jesus’s requests to cut his hair had gone from just that, requests, to full on threats to cut it while Daryl was sleeping. So, here he was.  
Jesus’s own hair was currently pulled back into a bun, strands coming out here and there down the sides of his face. He tucked them behind his ears, grabbing the towel around Daryl’s shoulders and using it to shake out the archer’s hair to get the excess water out. He picked up the comb, and began running it through Daryl’s hair. Every time it hit a knot or tangle, he would let out a grunt, or a quiet “ow.” Jesus put the comb down when he was done and took the top layer of Daryl’s hair into his hands, looping a rubber band around it to rest it on top of his head. He picked up the scissors and put his other hand on the archer’s shoulder.  
“Ready?” He asked.  
“I guess.” Daryl muttered. Jesus rolled his eyes at the dramatics, and began to snip away at the split ends. It didn’t take him too long to get the bottom layer, even with measuring it all to make sure it was all as close to the same length as he could get it.  
He had cut away about an inch and a half when he went to take the top layer of hair out of the rubber band. Daryl went to reach to the back of his head to feel how short it was when Jesus slapped his hand away.  
“Not yet,” he said, separating the rest of the hair into sections. “You’ll get to see it when it’s done.”  
Daryl huffed, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. Jesus continued to snip away at his hair, Daryl’s heart sinking more and more every time he saw bits of it fall to the floor. While he sat there, he thought about the fact that he used to hate people touching him, especially his face or hair. But whenever Jesus did, he just felt comfortable, safe; even when he was cutting away the wavy locks that Daryl had secretly prided himself on growing for the past year or so.  
“Alright,” Jesus said, kissing the top of his head. “All done.”  
Daryl stood up and ran his hand through his hair, the feeling of it stopping shorter at the bottom making him skeptical. They both walked upstairs to the bedroom so he could look at it in the mirror, Jesus lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for his boyfriend’s reaction to his handiwork.  
Daryl studied himself, actually enjoying the feeling of a light draft on his neck, the way his hair stopped about an inch above his shoulder making him look much cleaner cut than he could remember in a long time.  
“So?” Jesus asked, reaching his hand up to lightly tug at the front strands of Daryl’s hair to make sure they were even. “What do you think?”  
Daryl turned around to face him, looping his arms around Jesus’s waist. “Looks good.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his boyfriend's lips. “Thank you.”  
“Good.” Jesus ran his hand through Daryl’s hair all the way to the back, massaging his scalp softly with his fingertips. Daryl groaned softly, the feeling causing a shiver to run up his spine and down to his groin. He leaned back in again and kissed Jesus with a low growl, then reached down to pull his thighs up. Jesus got the hint and locked his arms around the archer’s neck as Daryl wrapped his legs around his waist, backing him up against the wall.  
“I thought I was next for a haircut.” Jesus breathed out a laugh as Daryl’s lips traveled down his neck and he undid Jesus’s bun with the hand that wasn’t holding onto his hips.  
“Fuck it,” Daryl nipped under his jaw, eliciting a moan from the other man. “More to grab at, anyway.”

 


End file.
